Long Hai. Just after dinner, the sun had sunk below the horizon, stubbornly spilling its final glow, painting the sky clouds golden-red. Jiang Yu E stepped out of her room in her pink slippers, excitedly rushed into her nephew’s room, only to find him gone. "Mom, where’s Yuanzi?" she called out loudly, addressing her mother who was washing dishes in the kitchen. "Just stepped out—she’s probably going to give fortune-telling consultations to the elderly neighbors again," her mother replied with a louder voice. "He doesn’t even know how to give fortune-telling consultations, does he? Isn’t it possible he’s just trying to swindle the old folks out of their money? Mom, I’ll beat him to death when he comes back." "He’s not swindling them—though, I’ll admit, he deserves a beating." Her mother grumbled. "Mom, I’ll take a nap. When he comes back, you’ll wake me up. Tomorrow’s weekend—I’ve got games to play." Jiang Yu E yawned and headed back to her room. At the stone table in the courtyard, Zhang Yuanqing sat with confidence, surrounded by a group of elderly men and women, with an The old man sighed deeply, saying, "Master Zhang, you've truly been spot-on! The stocks I bought have indeed hit the daily price floor—oh, I'm losing so much that it's hurting my liver!" Upon hearing this, Zhang Yuanqing shook his head and sighed, "Mr. Wang, you're destined to be a crop of wheat—always harvested, from childhood through old age. You'll never become wealthy, and if this continues, your later years will be bleak indeed." Mr. Wang was stunned, gripping Master Zhang's hands tightly and pleading, "Master, please save me!" Zhang Yuanqing sat up straight, radiating the air of a sage from another world, saying, "It's easy. From now on, have your wife manage your money." "Then that will prevent me from being harvested like a crop?" the elder asked with hope. "No—it will be your son who gets harvested," Zhang replied. "…Master, please help us transform our fate!" As they spoke, the elders and grandmothers by the side gasped, "Oh!" and looked on in growing astonishment. "Really a pity?" "Isn't it like a blind cat meeting a dead mouse?" "Really good at fortune-telling? The grandson of Mr. Chen?" The senior residents were amazed and chatting excitedly. Recently, it's been widely rumored that Mr. Chen's grandson has left for summer camp to study feng shui and divination under a master, mastering the art of reading faces and predicting destinies with absolute accuracy—identifying illnesses, pinpointing auspicious spots, and even forecasting life events. Yet some people remained half-doubtful about his abilities. "Master Zhang truly has something to offer. Just a few days ago, he predicted that I would have a grandson by next year—yet yesterday, my wife was confirmed pregnant." "Old Wang has been losing money on stocks too. Can it really be all staged?" At that moment, an elderly man with a triangular eye pushed open Old Wang's door. "I'll take it. I'll take it." He examined Zhang Yuanqing with a somewhat dismissive tone, saying, "Young man, take a look at my facial features. If you can accurately predict my fate, I'll give you two hundred yuan." "The money doesn't matter—after all, we're all neighbors." Zhang Yuanqing remained composed, undisturbed by the man's attitude or tone, and as usual, asked for the man's name and birth date. In fact, he knew this man well—he was well-known in the community for his grumpy disposition and stinginess, and had once clashed with his grandfather. After the triangular-eyed elder finished speaking, and with the attention of the surrounding grandmas and grandpas, Zhang Yuanqing stroked his chin and said: "You're in good health, but your interpersonal, family, and relationships with your children are weaker—your children haven't visited you in a long time, have they?" The triangular-eyed elder huffed, "Don't beat around the bush—these are things everyone knows." You know yourself that your social connections aren't strong, don't you?" Zhang Yuanqing then shifted gears: "But your缘 (origin) palace is veiled in a cloud of auspiciousness, with a subtle glow of red light—remarkable, sir! Your love life is entering its second spring!" The triangular-eyed elder's expression changed, and before he could respond, Zhang Yuanqing pivoted again: "Yet, within the cloud, dark energy swirls, and within the red glow, streaks of blood color persist—this is a blend of blossoms and blood-related afflictions. It means your mistress is a woman already married, sir. Have you been making moves on a neighbor's wife, perhaps?" The surrounding grandmas and grandpas exchanged another "Oh! Oh!" The triangular-eyed "He passionately countered, speaking loudly while looking at people beside him, 'There's absolutely no truth to this—little boy, you're just making things up! You'll never get off scot-free!' He stood up angrily, pushed through the crowd, and walked off with determination. By now, he had noticed that people's gazes had changed—senior men looked at him with suspicion and hostility, while the women were full of curiosity and gossip. Zhang Yuanqing called out after his back: 'Senior, you're so old—just settle down and enjoy your retirement, don't go all out with these fancy things!' 'Yuanzi!' At that moment, his uncle, who had just finished dining, stepped out of the building and waved, 'Come on, let's go to the square dance.' 'Yes, yes!' Zhang Yuanqing pulled his mask from his coat pocket and hurried after him, while the elders and women behind him loudly urged him: 'Master Zhang, please show me!' 'Master Zhang, don't go! That old man's been courting one of the ladies, hasn't he?' 'Master Zhang, my son's been having trouble at work—can we schedule a time for you to give him a reading?' But Zhang Yuanqing merely waved his hand, leaving no cloud behind, and followed the family traitors out of the community. On the square fifty meters away, a group of graceful grandmas still awaited him. Since returning home, Zhang Yuanqing has been pretending to attend school during the day, while actually spending time at Fu Family Village villa with Guan Ya, enjoying intimate moments, and occasionally supervising Xia Hou Aotian with his screw-driving tasks. In the meantime, he made a trip to Jinshan City—his previously favored Unseen Hotel had closed down, due to fears of retaliation from the southern faction. Xiao Yuan, along with four young colleagues, had relocated to the city center. Kou Beiyue and the chubby young man had paused their delivery service and switched to being delivery personnel, currently working at a logistics company known as "Human Blood Bun." In the evenings, he returns home to share meals with his family, joins his uncle in square dancing, plays games with his aunt, and occasionally joins the matchmaking crowd, urging his over-mature cousin to find a girlfriend. Notably, last night, his mother-in-law brought home a young woman—her brother’s daughter, whose parents are senior leaders in state-owned enterprises The young woman is a returning overseas graduate, currently serving as a senior executive at a global top 500 company. At thirty-two, she is a strikingly beautiful and exceptionally capable high-quality human female. Upon hearing that her cousin is a captain at the Kangyang District Public Security Bureau, her family immediately saw great potential in the match and expressed clear interest in bringing them together. As a result, Auntie brought the sister over for a family dinner, where Zhang Yuanqing was also present. The sister indeed made a strong impression—she had wavy hair, wore elegant branded attire, and carried a refined, scholarly pair of glasses, giving off a cultured and graceful aura. One might have mistaken her for being the sister of someone named Gao. Once at the dinner, she immediately brightened up upon seeing Zhang Yuanqing, asking endless questions throughout the meal. Where is her brother studying? Does he have interest in interning at her company? How is her mother doing in her overseas business ventures? What clothing brands does her brother particularly like? Her attention was entirely focused on Zhang Yuanqing, with little interaction with her cousin. Even before leaving, she wanted to add Zhang Yuanqing on WeChat. It was simply impossible. Zhang Yuanqing had always been good-looking, and after becoming a Lingjing Xingzhe, his physique became robust and upright. His demeanor combined the enigmatic, passionate charm of the Yeyou Shen with the mysterious, ethereal grace of the Xingguan, making him particularly attractive to women. The dating efforts naturally fell through. According to his aunt, the sister returned home and immediately told her parents that she had taken a liking to the brother of the prospective match, expressing her intention to start dating right away and marry within three months, with a child expected within a year. His uncle and aunt family were indifferent—his uncle didn’t care much about his son’s marriage at all; Chen Yuanjun was merely the heir to his father’s legacy, not his own. His aunt thought that since her son held a high-ranking position as head of the Security Bureau, there was no shortage of suitable brides among the young women of Songhai. However, his grandmother was deeply dissatisfied and treated the grandson as both a thorn in her side and a constant source of irritation for several days afterward. Half an hour later, after gathering no insights, he folded his astrolabe and sighed. "Still no revelations—this suggests my fate is tied to a high-ranking presence, at the very least a peak-level master, or perhaps a high-ranking nocturnal deity skilled in concealing themselves." Zhang Yuan looked deeply concerned and sighed again. Although the art of celestial observation had offered no response, logical reasoning would not be disrupted by a concealed force. He believed the cause of his impending doom stemmed from two sources: Master Cai and Ling Tuo. The issue, however, was that based on the experience of the Demon King, Ling Tuo had only begun to act against him after his promotion to a day-wandering deity. Unless something special had recently occurred—such as Ling Tuo learning that he was Zhang Tianshi's son—Ling Tuo would likely not intervene prematurely. If the threat came from Master Cai, the crisis would probably involve multiple masters launching coordinated attacks, which could be effectively managed by remaining safely within the realm. "Oh, the most terrifying thing isn't the danger itself, but not knowing where it comes from—having no direction even to begin thinking of strategies." Zhang Yuanqing dissolved into starlight. …… Dark clouds covered the sky, layered upon one another, endless and vast, striving to pierce through and cast a pale light upon this lifeless land. This was an ancient battlefield, a sanctuary of life, the gray-brown soil stretching to the horizon, with rotting corpses and withered bones resembling sores growing upon the surface. A blood-red lake, like a ruby gem, lay embedded in the landscape. High above the lake, an ancient palace hung suspended, built from large black stone blocks. The palace bore neither the pointed roofs of Western architecture nor the tiled eaves of traditional Chinese design. Its architectural style belonged to no particular era, as though detached from human civilization, resembling a cube constructed by ancient humans out of stone. Yet the stones that composed it fit together with perfect precision, the exterior walls smooth and even, and the refined details—unattainable even by ancient human craftsmanship. Before the floating palace, nine hundred and ninety-nine tiers of suspended stone steps extend, with the thousandth step embedded in the ground. A tall, weathered ascetic, hands clasped together, ascends step by step. With every step he takes upward, the stone steps recede one tier behind. He has walked for a long time, yet remains in place. Even so, he has completed nine hundred and ninety tiers, only ten steps away from reaching the palace. "Events fade without trace!" A figure appears at the end of the steps, clad in tattered robes. It has no flesh—its exposed skull is pale and bone-white, its limbs composed of stark white bones. Within the hollow sockets of its skull, a flame of the soul burns, conveying spiritual pulses: "You are not the one chosen by the gods. Do not aspire to seize the divine authority. Return now—this is your final chance."